


survival is secondary (to having it all again with you)

by fonulyn



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol as coping mechanism, Angst, Character Death, Fake Character Death, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, M/M, Torture, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, snuggles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 15:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19298323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fonulyn/pseuds/fonulyn
Summary: “Jesus, Leon,” Chris muttered, hands shaking as he searched for a pulse. “You’d better be alive, you hear me.” They hadn’t managed to find a single survivor thus far, and his rational mind was telling him that the chances were more than slim for it to happen now. So when he found the first faint signs of a heartbeat, relief crashed on him, hitting him like a freight train.-Chris knows Leon’s trauma goes way deeper than being kidnapped and almost killed. That doesn’t mean he’s not willing to stick with him through it.





	survival is secondary (to having it all again with you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miramise](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miramise/gifts).



> For the Chreon Summer Solstice Exchange! This is for the lovely Mira; You’re great, and I hope that this is something you’ll find at least enjoyable! :)
> 
> I struggled for a while for an idea I could work with, but then there was a lot of Ada-related talk in the Chreon server, all very well thought out and eloquent things, and I kind of went from there. So she plays a part in this. Also the character death tags refer to her.
> 
> ALSO just to be clear, I think Ada is super cool and badass and all that jazz, I love her as a character. But she is also ruthless and has made it clear several times that to her, the job comes first, so.

Chris swallowed hard. It was kind of ridiculous how nervous he was, considering how long he’d been doing this. Of course there always was this kind of unease in the back of his mind, something that helped keep him vigilant and alert, and had probably saved his life more than once. Now there was a real threat of it turning into something dangerous, though, if he couldn’t get a grip.

This was supposed to be a mission to collect as much data as possible, and saving possible prisoners was only a secondary goal in the grand scheme of things. Yet to Chris this was first and foremost a rescue operation. He knew where his priorities stood, and he had situated himself in the front of the team that was going to clear the rooms for the others to follow for data collection purposes.

At least the nervousness tapered down to manageable levels as soon as they got down to action. Experience and competency kicked in, and automatically he switched into the mindset that would get the job done.

The place was nearly empty. Obviously someone had tipped them off, and as a result they had abandoned the facility and left only the dead behind. There were labcoats haphazardly thrown over chairs, coffee mugs still half full abandoned on the tables, papers strewn across the floors. Some of the computers were still running, some had been smashed to pieces, to try to prevent anyone from using them.

None of that was what Chris was after, there were other people for it. Techs were already collecting whatever information they could, whatever papers were deemed important. He was there to make sure that no one got hurt in the process, to clear the way with his team and neutralize all possible threats.

And, of course, to see if they’d find _him_ still alive.

Unable to focus on the thought any longer, Chris signalled for two of his men to follow. The main room was split into a dozen corridors, and seeing how the initial sweep had turned up nothing they had split up in small teams to head into the different directions, Chris taking on the basement level. If the information they’d gotten was right, that was the way he wanted to be heading.

What met them underground was pretty much as chaotic as what they’d seen on the upper levels. It continued on, all the way to the end of the hallway, where there were one last set of stairs down. No one spoke beyond the necessary, entirely focused on the task at hand. Besides it was almost eerie how the place suddenly looked less like a laboratory and more like a dungeon, with rows of locked prison cells.

They shot the locks to open the first two cells, finding the same gruesome sight in them both. Nearly all of the prisoners were suspended from the ceiling, some by their hands, some feet. Some were missing limbs altogether, all covered in blood and bruises. And all of them dead.

Chris could feel his heartbeat in his throat, getting louder with every single body they found. Every time he rushed to check if there were any signs of life, frantically searching the faces for a familiar one. And every time an immense wave of relief washed over him, making him feel guilty about it. It wasn’t like all of the victims weren’t missed by someone. They were all someone’s friends, someone’s family.

There were a couple of cells that were empty, not even locked, and finally they reached the last one, at the end of the corridor. Again, the lock was busted, the door kicked in, and like in the previous ones this cell had large hooks on the ceiling, from which the prisoners could be hung from. Chris immediately bypassed searching the room properly, trusting for his companions to secure it. He only had eyes for the prisoner, suspended in the air by his wrists, toes brushing the ground.

“Jesus, Leon,” Chris muttered, hands shaking as he searched for a pulse. “You’d better be alive, you hear me.” They hadn’t managed to find a single survivor thus far, and his rational mind was telling him that the chances were more than slim for it to happen now. So when he found the first faint signs of a heartbeat, relief crashed on him, hitting him like a freight train.

“I’ve got you,” he said, as he brought an arm around Leon’s chest to support him against his own body, reaching up to cut the thick ropes with his knife. “It’s gonna be okay, you’re gonna be okay. We’re getting you out of here and everything will be fine.” He was mostly talking to himself, trying to reach at least some semblance of calm to be able to function properly.

Leon’s full weight dropped on Chris as soon as the rope snapped, and even though he had anticipated it, he still almost managed to lose his grip. Only almost, thankfully, and he managed to salvage the situation by going down on his knees, carefully lowering Leon to the ground. “Grant, go get the medics. We need a stretcher,” Chris barked out, not really happy with how his voice almost cracked. The command was quickly obeyed, and Chris tore his eyes off Leon to finally assess the situation fully. “So..?” His voice cracked, quite embarrassingly.

“Nothing,” Rhoades answered immediately, thankfully not commenting on the way Chris hadn’t managed to even get the entire question out. “Just a ton of blood.” He gestured towards the ground, at the splatters of blood in the room, and gave a vague hand-gesture. “I don’t think it’s all his.” Not waiting for the words from Chris, he took initiative to act further. “I’ll get some people here to cut the deceased all down. We can’t just leave them hanging.”

Chris nodded in agreement. He knew he was supposed to be the one dealing out the commands and instructions but right now he didn’t really have the mental capacity for that. At least they had already made sure there was no imminent threat anywhere in sight. Rhoades was already out of the door by the point there was a low groan, and it took Chris a second to realize where it had come from.

“Leon!?” In a second he was looking at Leon again, snapping out of his haze to move. “C’mon, say something,” he urged, “are you awake? Talk to me!” Truthfully he didn’t exactly expect any kind of a coherent reply, but at least Leon was obviously alive, and damn near awake too, and Chris did count that as a win.

It took some manoeuvring to cut the ropes bound way too tight around Leon’s wrists, but Chris got it done, and tried to see what the overall damage was. Leon’s left shoulder looked like it wasn’t in its proper place, and there were nasty purple bruises on his face and arms, wherever skin was visible. The rope had cut deep into his wrists, enough to blister and even draw blood.

Chris didn’t want to jostle him too much, though, and tried to hold back while waiting for the actual medics. “I know you hurt, okay,” he said, as gently as he managed, his throat suddenly so dry speaking itself was a chore. “Just try to stay awake, there’s going to be help. You’re safe now, okay?” He wanted, so badly, to touch but he didn’t know where he could put his hands without hurting the other man further, without making it all worse.

Leon’s eyes were cracked open, just a little, his gaze darting around unfocused. “A– da” was the only thing he managed to get out, and even that much seemed to hurt. Chris frowned, confused. They had heard whispers that Ada Wong might be around, working with whoever paid the most, probably. But he hadn’t expected for Leon to ask about her, delirious and half-unconscious like this.

The blood on the ground was pooling mostly underneath the second hook hanging from the ceiling, and Chris wondered if that might be the explanation. Had Ada been a prisoner too? He tried to shift a little to block Leon’s line of sight in the direction of most of the blood, just in case.

“Focus on yourself for now, okay,” he answered, dodging the question altogether. He did feel a little guilty about it, but he knew he couldn’t start questioning now, not before there’d be help. Thankfully that’s when the medics rushed in with the stretcher and supplies, saving him from having to say anything further. Reluctantly he moved from where he was still kneeling on the floor, letting go of Leon to let these people do their job.

Rattled, Chris watched as the medics strapped Leon onto the stretcher, hurrying him out of the room. He couldn’t bring himself to stay still, needing something to busy himself with, and thus he jogged after them. He would find out where the assholes that did this were hiding, and he would end them all. _One. By. One._

 

 

*

 

 

_The boot catches heavily against Leon’s side, forcing all air out of his lungs with the force of the kick. Stubbornly he bites the inside of his cheek, keeping himself from crying out loud at the beating. He’s not going to give them the satisfaction, not if he can help it. He’s got an inkling that this is only the beginning, and already his ribs ache. He doesn’t think they’re broken yet at least but definitely bruised._

_He anticipates the next kick, rolls with it, and manages to avoid the most of it. Unfortunately the movement lands him on his back, on top of his hands that are tied behind his back, and his finger twists painfully. There’s no time to do anything about it, though._

_The laughter is loud in the room, seems to echo from the walls. “Oh no you don’t.”_

_There’s a heavy weight on Leon’s chest, followed immediately by a punch that sends the back of his head colliding with the floor. For a second he sees stars, tastes something metallic, and before that passes the next blow follows. As much as he can, he tries to avoid the worst of the hits, but there’s not really a lot he can do when he’s pinned down like this._

_Still, the worst part is probably that he knows he could throw the man off himself, could’ve kicked him to the ground, at least put up a good fight. But there are four armed guards standing in the corners of the room, guns trained at him, ready to shoot. So he waits, tries his best to dodge whatever few attacks he can, and steels himself against the rest._

_All the while, he keeps his eyes open for a chance to escape. Hoping._

 

*

_“So, Mr Kennedy,” the man in front of him drawls, leaning closer until they’re face to face, noses almost touching. “Have you reconsidered our offer?” He doesn’t wait for an answer, but instead laughs, his breath hot and disgusting against Leon’s face. Probably noticing how Leon balks, the man brings a hand up to honest-to-god_ squish _Leon’s cheeks, the grip tight enough to keep his head in place. “Have you?”_

_Leon huffs, puts as much bravado into it as he possibly can. “Have you gotten your head checked?” he asks, trying not to wince at how weird his voice sounds because of the way his cheeks are being squished. This time there are only two gunmen in the room with them, maybe it’s a sign that they’re considering him less of a threat. Soon he’ll get his chance…_

_The man laughs, lets go of Leon’s cheeks in favour of punching him squarely in the face. “You’ve caused us a lot of grief,” he drawls, taking a step further back as if to admire his handiwork. Leon’s hands are still tied behind his back, as they have been for the day or two he’s been there thus far. But now he’s also shackled onto the decidedly uncomfortable chair, which isn’t exactly good news for his escape plan. Expectedly, the man punches him again. “The least you could do is pay it back by working for us.”_

_“Yeah, sure,” Leon croaks, spitting out blood. “Just untie me and I’ll pay you back, alright.” He manages to get surprisingly much sass and challenge into the words, considering how he’s aching all over and still can taste blood in his mouth. Just in case, he runs his tongue along his teeth to check they’re all still there, forcing down a flinch as he finds a spot much more sore than the rest._

_“I’m afraid it won’t be that easy.” The man spits a few words at the gunmen in the room, and one of them immediately hurries to leave, obviously to carry out whatever command he got. Then he turns back towards Leon, something sharp in his grin. “But we have acquired a friend of yours. Maybe that makes you more_ willing _to indulge us.”_

_Suddenly Leon’s heart is drumming a mile a minute, and he has to fight back the panic. Who the hell have these people managed to capture? Frantically he goes through the options in his mind, hoping against all odds that this is just a bluff. He didn’t plan on dignifying the words with a reply, even but isn’t able to hold back the breathless “A friend?” that escapes him._

_“Yes, a_ friend _,” the man laughs, that weird almost metallic laughter that sounds like nails on chalkboard, making Leon cringe each time. There’s a scuffle at the door, cursing and shouted voices, until it’s thrown open and two beefy soldiers step inside, a woman propped up between them._

_It doesn’t take Leon more than one glance to recognize Ada._

_For a second Leon is actually relieved, but then immediately feels like shit for it. Ada doesn’t deserve this any more than anyone else does, but she can handle herself, she’s been in tighter spots too, maybe she has a plan to escape already. At least she has a better chance to survive this than a civilian would, Leon thinks, tries to justify his relief to himself._

_“Aren’t you happy to see her, Mr Kennedy?”_

_Leon snorts. “Am I supposed to know her?” He knows it’s a feeble lie, and that anyone could easily find out that they most definitely know each other. Yet he doesn’t exactly feel like humouring his capturers, and he deflects._

_He doesn’t think he imagines the twitch of Ada’s lips into a faint smile._

 

 

*

 

 

 

Shifting in his place for that felt like the hundredth time, Chris huffed at himself. Things could’ve turned out so much worse, and he should be damn grateful that they’d gotten Leon out of there in time, even if they hadn’t managed to save anyone else from the dungeons. He should be ecstatic, and he should be shouting his joy from the rooftops, for crying out loud.

Then why was he standing here like an idiot, gripping the small drawstring bag in his hands so tight his knuckles were turning white. Already three times he’d tried to approach the hospital room door, and every time he’d turned back, too chickenshit to actually open it. And although he kept trying to tell himself that he didn’t know what the problem was, the truth was he did know more than well.

He was scared of how Leon would look at him.

They had just barely managed to find a precarious balance together, had started to make things into an actual relationship instead of just occasional casual hook-ups. They had gone on _dates_ , had spent nights in bed together just to enjoy the closeness instead of as a means to get off. There hadn’t exactly been any _I love you_ s yet or anything, but they’d both been on the same page, they’d been on their way.

And now Chris didn’t know if they could just slot right back into that or if it had all been too new, too fragile, too breakable to survive something like this. Leon had almost _died_. Almost died in a way that wasn’t their usual line of almost died, but something entirely different. And Chris wanted… he wanted desperately to be there for Leon, if Leon would just let him.

With a sigh, Chris finally steeled himself. He took three deep breaths, focusing on the way his chest moved with each of them, eyes closed. He’d just have to get over his own stupid problems. Leon was the priority now, Leon was the one who’d been hurt and manipulated and _tortured_ , and Chris could get over his insecurities to be there for him.

Finally, he opened the door.

Leon was sitting upright in bed, looking paler than he’d ever looked before. The hospital gown even underlined it, seemed to amplify the dark circles under his eyes and the way his cheeks were sunken. Nevertheless seeing him made a familiar flip of affection jump in Chris’ chest, and Chris forced himself to smile. “Hey. I brought you clothes.” He held the bag up, throwing it onto the bed so that it was well within Leon’s reach.

“Thanks,” Leon smiled, clearly relieved. “I can’t wait to get out of here.” He grabbed the bag and tried to wrestle it open, but with his right hand in a cast – a bright yellow one at that – it wasn’t so easy and after a few seconds Chris automatically stepped closer to help. Leon watched him silently until the clothes were laid out on the edge of the bed.

There were comfortable pants, and the softest button-up shirt Chris had managed to find. “I thought the buttons would make it easier to, y’know. Get dressed,” Chris explained, with an awkward little shrug. “And I don’t know, you can just get changed as soon as you’re home, just as long as those are enough to get you that far.”

“It’s fine,” Leon said, nodding to underline his words. “Thank you.”

“I just…” Chris rubbed the back of his neck, a little embarrassed, even though he wasn’t entirely sure what for. “Tell me if you need a hand. Otherwise I’ll just wait. I’m taking you home.”

As awkward as the moment felt, Chris knew he didn’t imagine the soft smile he got from Leon.

 

*

“So,” Chris said as soon as the door closed behind them in Leon’s apartment, deciding that enough was enough, he’d have to be a man about this. “I know you’re a capable adult and you can handle yourself and all, don’t take this the wrong way. But I think you shouldn’t be alone for now. So. I thought I’d stay?” The nervous twist in his stomach wasn’t all comfortable, but at least he didn’t need to suffer from it for long.

“Sure.” Leon nodded immediately, not putting up any kind of a fight at all. Instead he wandered into the kitchen to see what he could find there. It was obvious from the careful way he moved that he was still hurting all over, but he tried to not let it show, and stubbornly made himself act as normal as possible.

Chris had stocked the kitchen with …well, a ton of food as he hadn’t really known what to get. But Leon only grabbed a beer from the fridge, before trudging into the living room and collapsing onto the couch. The way he winced right after showed clearly how he hadn’t really thought the movement through beforehand and was surprised by how much it hurt.

“You probably shouldn’t really drink, what with your painkillers and all,” Chris said from where he stood at the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. He wasn’t going to make it into an argument, so when Leon just raised an eyebrow at him he held his hands up in surrender. “Fine. At least tell me if it gets worse, okay.” Already when talking Chris approached, carefully taking a seat at the other end of the couch.

“I’m fine,” Leon answered shortly, taking a long swig of the beer. “I don’t need you to mother me.”

“I know,” Chris admitted. He held his tongue with the beers number two and three.

 

*

Usually Chris could fall asleep anywhere, at a moment’s notice. Apparently this qualified as a weird enough situation that even that didn’t help him, though, and he spent most of the night tossing and turning on the too small couch, trying to strain his ears to hear if Leon was asleep in the bedroom. They’d left the door open, as an unspoken agreement between them both, but it wasn’t enough to Chris. He wanted to do so much more than just lying on the couch uselessly.

Around five am Leon cried for help in his sleep for the sixth time that night, and that was the last drop for Chris. Determined, he grabbed the thin blanket he’d been sleeping under and wrapped it around himself, marching into the bedroom. He could see even in the darkness that Leon was already awake, staring at him wordlessly.

“Scoot,” Chris said as soon as he reached the bed. It was big, thankfully, and they’d both manage to fit into it so that Chris still wouldn’t jostle Leon’s injured hand or hurt him unintentionally otherwise. “I’m coming in.”

“You don’t ne–” Leon started, but took only one look at the stubborn set of Chris’ jaw and relented. Instead he shifted, making room. It took some manoeuvring until they were both comfortable, Leon’s broken hand propped up so that they wouldn’t accidentally crush it between them. They were both practically rolled up into their own covers, even though otherwise they pressed as close together as possible.

In a flash of bravery Chris even threw an arm around Leon’s waist, snuggling a little closer to him. It didn’t really seem like Leon minded, though, if the way he simply relaxed into the shared warmth was any indication. Chris’ heart made a small happy skip at that, and he couldn’t help but smile a little. “If I’m making you uncomfortable, just tell me,” he murmured against Leon’s shoulder. “But if it’s alright with you, I’d like to stay.”

There was a pause, during which Leon practically seemed to stop breathing for a beat. Then he spoke, words dropping softly into the darkness surrounding them. “I wasn’t sure if you’d want to. After all… _that_.” It was raw, honest, like every single word hurt to get out.

“ _Leon_ ,” Chris tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, to keep it as soft as he possibly could. “None of that was your fault, okay. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Leon shuddered against him, silent for so long Chris thought he’d already fallen asleep. Then, he whispered a barely audible “I wish I could believe that.”

Chris just held him throughout the rest of the night. Leon didn’t wake up screaming once.

 

*

The days blended into one another, going on monotonously, every single one a copy of the one before. It was a week after Leon had been discharged from the hospital when Chris finally snapped, unable to take the distant, empty look in Leon’s eyes any longer. “Look,” he huffed, after cornering Leon in the living room, and despite his best efforts he couldn’t keep the frustration from being clearly audible in his voice. “You need to talk to me, Leon. I’m _right here_.”

“Talk about what?” Leon asked petulantly, jaw set to a tight line as he simply stared Chris down, unwavering. He was holding the mug of coffee in his hand so tight one could clearly see the strain of his fingers, though, arm shaking a little.

Chris huffed. “I thought we got past this like… five years ago. When you threw up on my chest.” They both knew what he was referring to. That night Leon had gotten spectacularly drunk – not that Chris had been much better – and it had somehow been as if a dam had broken and all of the pent up things had poured out. They had both opened up about all of the crap they’d been through, until Leon had literally puked on Chris’ chest and passed out on his living room floor.

The next morning had been awkward as fuck at first, but then, after copious amounts of coffee and some breakfast later, they’d somehow accepted their new normal. After that neither of them had ever felt the need to hold back, and they’d become something like… confidantes to one another. They’d become real, proper friends.

There was a small grin on Leon’s lips as he remembered the incident, but then he shook his head in denial. “This is different. This is… It’s not the same.” He shrugged as if he knew it was a lame explanation, and took a long sip from his mug. Chris suspected strongly that it was more whiskey than coffee in that mug.

“I know it wasn’t just some B.O.W. terrorist attack,” Chris insisted, “and I know that it was different. But you should know you can still talk to me about it! I’ve lost people too. People I’ve cared about. It’s not like you’re the only one here who’s had to go through shit like that.” It might not have been the nicest way to put it, but, well, sometimes niceness wasn’t the way to get through to Leon. “I know what she meant to you, Leon.”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Leon growled, and all but slammed his mug on the table. He took two steps forward but then seemed to think better of it and froze, instead glaring daggers at Chris. “You don’t know _shit_. I bet the moment you found out she’s de– gone, you were ready to write those fuckers a thank you note. So don’t you fucking dare act like you fucking care!”

The words hurt, like a dagger straight into Chris’ heart. “Leon. I would _never_ do that to _you_.” He had never been Ada’s biggest fan, and he certainly had never understood the weird bond between Leon and her, but that didn’t mean that he wasn’t sorry for Leon for having lost her. Besides, Ada had always been the one topic they’d never properly discussed, and the mere thought of her always sent a tinge of something like jealousy, or insecurity, through Chris.

“So, what?” Leon rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up. He huffed out a laugh, an empty and joyless sound. “You’ll hold my hand while I weep about losing her? Not fucking likely. Stop pretending you give a shit and we can just go back to ignoring this.”

“ _Screw_ you,” Chris snapped. “Of course I fucking care! I _hated_ her, with a burning passion, and do I think the world is a better place without her manipulative, twisted schemes in it? Hell yes I do! But I want to be there for you and if it means you need to cry against my shoulder I will damn well pat your back and tell you she was great! I’ll sing her praises all you want, as long as you fucking talk to me, and _let me help you_.”

Leon sternly refused to even look at Chris. Yet there was a telltale crack in his voice as he spoke up. “Why would you say that.” It didn’t even sound like a question, more like a defeated sigh.

This was it. It only took a second for Chris to decide he’d throw all caution to the wind and put himself out there, hoping with all of his might that it’d be enough. That Leon wouldn’t just shoot him down mercilessly. “Because I want to get you through this,” he said, solemn and honest, unwavering in every way imaginable.

Then, Chris took the biggest leap of faith in his entire life. “Because I love you.” There it was. His heart on display.

Leon’s eyes snapped right up and he stared at Chris like he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. He opened his mouth, searched for words, and in the end simply snapped his mouth shut again without a sound. It felt like a small eternity, and they only stared at each other, entire worlds wordlessly passing between them.

Finally Leon sighed and looked down. “I just,” he whispered, barely audibly, “give me some time, okay?”

That was something Chris could definitely respect, so he nodded in agreement. “I’m going to put together something to eat.” He practically escaped into the kitchen, glad to have something to keep himself busy. Maybe he was having a slight internal freakout because of the way he’d just blurted out his feelings right there. But he held on dearly to the sliver of hope, because he hadn’t been shot down, at least. Leon hadn’t said no. And Leon hadn’t asked him to leave.

That all counted as a win. Chris had faith. They’d get through this. Both of them.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

_Leon’s lip is throbbing in the telltale way that clearly tells it’s split, quite spectacularly at that. There’s a ringing in his ears, and weakly he thrashes in his shackles in an attempt to break free. It’s of no use, though, and he knows that. The rope around his wrists is so tight it’s making his hands go numb, and he’d been hung from the ceiling like a piece of meat, dangling down from his wrists. If he stretches out, he can just put his toes on the ground for a little bit of support, but that’s only when he’s left alone._

_The man – Leon’s taken to calling him Douchebag in his head – is trying to talk him into some kind of a working contract still, alternating from coaxing and false promises to threats and violence. “Say yes, Kennedy,” Douchebag drawls, idly taking a drag of his cigarette before blowing the smoke in Leon’s face, “you know it’s the smart thing to do. And we all know you’re smart.”_

_“Or what,” Leon forces out, even throwing in a smirk although it really friggin’ hurts to make any kind of expressions, “you’ll kill me with the second hand smoking?”_

_“No,” Douchebag grins, and before going on further he casually puts out his cigarette against Leon’s neck. It hurts like hell, but Leon stubbornly clams his mouth shut on the shout, managing to bite it back into a small, barely audible whimper. Douchebag is approaching Ada now, though, and runs a finger across her throat, mimicking cutting it open. “I’ll kill her, obviously.”_

_Although Leon has been the one to take the brunt of the beatings, it’s not like Ada has gotten away unscathed either. She’s sporting a nasty bruise on her cheek, and is strung up into the ceiling from her wrists same as Leon is. She’s taken it all in her usual style, though, barely saying anything unless it’s a mocking taunt._

_It’s almost become a routine already, after several hours of the same. Sometimes they’re left alone in the room, just the two of them, as if the capturers think that by giving them breaks in between might end up breaking their will in the end as well. Leon isn’t sure what kind of logic that is, but hey, he’ll take the break from the punches if he’s offered._

_Hesitantly Leon calls out for Ada as they’re left alone for the next time, and when she looks up at him and hitches up an eyebrow, he blurts out the only thing he has on his mind. “I’m sorry.”_

_“Sorry about what?” she asks, snippy._

_“About getting you into this mess,” he sighs, hangs his head, “but I can’t give them what they want. You know that.”_

_“I get it,” she says, and that makes Leon look up at her. Something odd flits over her features, like she’s weighing the situation, assessing her options. Then she’s smiling, softly, even with the bruise on her cheek that must hurt like hell. “It’s not that bad, though,” she goes on, “what they’re offering.”_

_Leon frowns. “What do you mean?”_

_Ada gives him a pointed look. “You could be the man on the inside. Learn their secrets, gain their trust, and then stab them in the back when they’re no longer useful to you.” She looks like it makes perfect sense to her, and the most horrifying thing is that Leon knows it does. To her it is that simple. To her, there’s nothing that’d stop her from taking that route._

_Yet Leon can’t. He can’t. “And help them kill innocent people in the process?” he asks, and although he’d aimed for indignation it comes out just plain tired. “Level cities and infect innocent bystanders? Help them one step closer to their world domination? Yeah, sounds great. Sounds just like the career path I had in mind.” He winces, stopping to catch his breath. Speaking so much at once hurts surprisingly much._

_Ada only smirks. “You can’t blame them for trying, though. You’d be an asset.”_

_Leon shifts, tugs on the ropes once again in hopes that they’d snap this time, or that he’d somehow magically manage to get out of them. He can’t, though. Of course he can’t. And after the attempt everything hurts ten times worse, his ribs protesting the moving around. He sighs. “I_ can’t _, Ada. I’m not like–”_

_She laughs, and Leon thinks he hears a tinge of pain in it. “Like me?”_

_“I didn’t say that.” Leon mumbles petulantly. He feels guilty for even implying that. Ada has saved his life on multiple occasions, he should show her some gratitude. Even if he’d already gotten over the ridiculous infatuation he’d held for her… he’d still always wanted to think they were allies, in some sense. That when push came to shove, Ada would have his back._

_Maybe it’s naïve thinking like that. Chris certainly would say that. Chris would bring out the color coded ledgers and notebooks, listing off all the reasons why Ada sucked, and why Leon should never ever even entertain the idea that she might be a friend._

_Thinking of Chris sends a fresh pang of hurt through Leon. He hopes that if he dies here, Chris won’t be the one that’s sent on body recovery mission._

_There’s no time to dwell on the thoughts any further, though. Not before their capturers are back, and this time the beating doesn’t only include being punched and kicked, but there’s an iron pipe and sharp nails to be stuck under fingernails. At one point the pipe is smashed so hard against Leon’s right hand he can literally hear bones breaking._

_That is one scream he can’t hold back. Not with all the willpower he has._

 

*

_Time stops being a concept. Leon has no idea how long they’ve been here. All he knows is the pain. And the desperation that this is really it. This is where they’ll die. The next respite they get, Ada is breathing heavily through her nose for a good while, before she tries – and mostly fails – to stare him down accusingly. “I hope your high morals are worth all this,” she snaps, voice breathless, the words grit out through clenched teeth._

_“I’m sorry,” Leon apologizes for what feels like the millionth time. It probably isn’t, but hey, he hasn’t been keeping score. He does feel like shit about this, though, beyond just his own aches and pains. “It_ is _my fault you’re in this mess.”_

_“Yeah it kind of is,” she agrees in a breathless hum. When she speaks again she sounds almost her normal self, like she hasn’t been tortured and used as leverage for ages. “They thought you’d care about me more than you care about the world.”_

_Leon is about to protest, he really is. Because even if he will pick the world over Ada, he does care for her, and he does want her out of here. He doesn’t have the time to say anything, not before she shushes him and honest-to-god grins at him. “_ I _know where we stand. Even if these people don’t.”_

_“What do you–” Leon begins, doesn’t get very far._

_She smiles, a knowing, almost scary kind of a smile. “It’s not_ me _they should’ve kidnapped, is it?”_

_There’s a moment of confusion when Leon genuinely has no idea what she’s implying. Then his mind flashes to the moment when Ada had been dragged into the cell with him, and how his first thought had been ‘thank god it’s not Chris’. Out of all the people he had wished it hadn’t been. Of all the people he wanted safe. He’d been his first thought._

_Leon doesn’t even try to deny it, though. He hangs his head, chin dropping against his chest. “I’m not talking about this.” He doesn’t know if there are ears and eyes on them even when they’re left alone, and he’d rather not bring_ anyone _into this unnecessarily._

_God, he hopes Chris won’t be the one to find his body._

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

The eventual breaking point came a week later. Chris hadn’t wanted Leon to feel like he was a prisoner in his own home, like he was being babysat all the time, and he’d taken to giving Leon his space too. But without fail, he always came back to check on him, to spend time with him, to the point he probably spent more time in Leon’s apartment than his own.

One evening when he opened the door with the key he’d gotten, he found Leon in the living room, halfway through his second bottle of vodka. Wordlessly Chris approached him, sat down next to him and took the bottle, gently prying it from Leon’s hand. Leon apparently didn’t even want to put up a proper fight, otherwise it wouldn’t have been so easy.

Chris put the bottle down on the table, turning to face Leon, who had burrowed into the corner of the couch, feet pulled up to his chest and arms wound around them as if he was trying to make himself as small as possible. It all broke Chris’ heart, and he placed a palm on Leon’s knee to show him that he was there, to offer some silent support.

That was when Leon crumbled. He let his head fall backwards into the backrest of the couch, eyes closed and voice so strained it sounded like he barely got the words out. “I watched her die, Chris. No, _I let her die_.” Every single word dropped into the space between them like a grenade, sad and hollow, entirely devoid of emotion. It was scarier than a huge explosion of emotion could’ve ever been. It sounded like Leon had given up, and that was _devastating_.

Leon opened his eyes, peering at Chris, even though he made no move to otherwise shift from his place. “And I didn’t stop it. I could’ve. I could’ve just… agreed to everything and made them stop, but I didn’t, I didn’t want to, I–” He swallowed hard, his voice breaking in the midst of the statement, and when he went on it was a mere whisper. “I can’t save anyone.”

“You know that’s not true.” Chris rubbed his thumb over Leon’s knee in slow circles, hoping that the closeness would bring at least some comfort. He wasn’t equipped to deal with anything like this, not really, but where he lacked in proficiency he had a lot of heart and even more sheer friggin’ willpower to help. “They would’ve killed her anyway. And you’ve saved countless lives. Don’t sell yourself short.”

A strange expression passed over Leon’s face, and suddenly he was moving. He scrambled up to his knees, surging forward until he could grab Chris’ face with his left hand, palm against his cheek, kissing him like his life depended on it. It wasn’t the first kiss they’d shared, not by far, but the implications of it, the fact that it occurred here and right at this moment, were enough to make Chris’ go weak in the knees.

Chris knew Leon was drunk as hell, so he tried his best to not let it get out of control. Yet he was only human, and he couldn’t deny himself the moment of reassurance, the sign that everything might just work out between them. Leon licked into his mouth, growling almost obscenely as they deepened the contact, and Chris automatically brought his hands to grab Leon’s hips tight.

Leon’s uninjured hand found its way into the back of Chris’ head, holding on to him, gently scraping blunt fingernails over his scalp. That immediately prompted a low moan from Chris, but he did the sensible thing and pulled back, not allowing the kisses to turn more desperate. Leon was more than drunk, and Chris had no intention in taking advantage. They hadn’t… this was the first time they’d even _kissed_ after the whole kidnapping and torture, and Chris didn’t want to rush things. He wanted to do it right.

Eventually Leon was practically climbing on top of Chris, and that’s when Chris decided it was time to stop it. He gripped Leon’s waist and made him sit back, trying to compose himself enough to give what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “We should stop it right there,” he said, regret evident in his voice.

It must’ve passed Leon by, though, as his face fell despite his best attempts at nonchalance. “It’s okay,” Leon drawled slowly, sitting back into his original spot, away from Chris. There were only a couple of inches between them and yet to Chris it felt like the world. “It’s okay,” Leon went on, chewing on his lower lip. “I get it. I wouldn’t want me either, after all of this mess.”

Chris couldn’t do much else but to stare at Leon with wide eyes, entirely stunned. “What?”

“So much _baggage_.” The weird, unnatural smile was like stuck on Leon’s lips, and the laughter that followed didn’t have an ounce of happiness in it. It was like a wave of bitterness. “You deserve someone… someone _better_.”

“Now you listen to me,” Chris all but growled, gripping Leon’s shoulders firmly. He made sure not to hurt the other man, but at the same time wanted to keep him in place and not have him withdraw and run away. “There is no one better,” he said, with so much conviction that it was absolutely impossible to miss. “And even if there was, there’s no one I’d rather have.”

Leon’s eyes were watery in a way that Chris had never seen before. It looked dangerously much like he was going to cry but he didn’t. He did let out the tiniest of sniffles, though, eyes searching Chris’ face frantically for a sign. “You really mean that…”

“I do,” Chris said, as firmly as he knew how. He even leaned in and sealed their lips in another kiss. One that spoke of promises and future, of hopes and dreams.

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

_Every breath is harder, more laborious, than the one before. Leon has no idea how long they’ve been there, but tiredness is obviously getting to him and it’s getting harder and harder to hold himself up even in the slightest. His toes still reach the floor but they keep slipping on the ground, the strain on his arms and wrists almost too painful to take._

_Leon tries to stay positive, tries to keep faith. Maybe there’ll be an opening to escape, or maybe someone will find them and get them out of there. Yet with each passing minute it’s harder to delude himself into false hopes. Besides he knows, for a fact, that he’s losing strength all the time, making escape even more unlikely._

_Squinting, Leon tries to focus his eyes properly, to see what’s going on as he hasn’t received a punch in a while. He spots Douchebag next to Ada, twirling a long, narrow knife in his fingers in an obvious attempt at intimidation. “You think you’re better than me, Miss Wong.” The man mocks, his grin sharp, all teeth._

_Ada only huffs. “I_ am _better than you. And I’ll prove it.” In a flash she kicks the man, jams her foot into his neck, making him gurgle and stumble backwards. Easily she twists up, even despite the bruises she’d gotten earlier, and manages to kick the guard behind her square in the face._

_Taking the hint, Leon gathers all of his strength and kicks out, taking out the second guard. It puts too much pressure on his wrist, though, making him cry out in sheer agony as white hot searing pain shoots through him, making his vision blur. He manages to blink his eyes open again just in time to see Douchebag pull back his arm, light glinting from the metal of the knife, and he tries to yell out a warning but he’s too slow._

_The knife is plunged deep into Ada’s side, between her ribs. Her eyes fly wide, a surprised gasp falling from her lips. Then she falls limp, all movement and fight gone faster than a blink of an eye. It all happens almost too fast, like it can’t even be real, but there she is, entirely still in the eeriest of ways._

_“Ada!” Leon screams, the sound tearing away from his throat, hurting, burning, ripping through him. There is no reply, no reaction, nothing. Only her lifeless form, hanging from the ceiling by her wrists. There’s distant laughter, but Leon doesn’t register who it originates from, all he can do is stare at Ada and_ panic.

_“See, Kennedy,” Douchebag approaches him, grabbing his face into his large palm, thumb digging painfully into Leon’s cheek. “This is what happens when you don’t give in. You should’ve just taken our offer. Now,” he hums, nodding towards Ada, “you’ve got her blood on your hands.”_

_Just like that, all the pain is gone, replaced by an all encompassing numbness that leaves no room for anything. Wordlessly Leon watches as Ada is taken down, carried out of the room, and all the while he can only stare in stunned silence._

_Once the door shuts and he’s left alone, all of the pain explodes back tenfold._

 

 

 

*

 

 

 

The next morning Chris woke up to an empty bed. They’d slept side by side more nights than they’d spent apart during these past few weeks, and it was definitely unusual that Leon was up before him. It made a tinge of worry twist in Chris’ stomach, and he tried to determinedly ignore it the best he could. Maybe he hadn’t freaked Leon out with his _feelings_ the night before, maybe there was some other rational explanation.

Chris swung his feet to the floor, wincing at how cold it was, and quickly located his socks to pull them on. Silently he padded into the living room, and from there into the kitchen, and found Leon there standing in front of the coffee maker, waiting for it to be done. “Morning,” he greeted as soon as he stepped into the room, making himself known.

“Morning,” Leon answered nonchalantly, a little _too casually_. Chris chose not to comment on it, but instead dug through the fridge to see what he could find there. He was feeling gracious, so he didn’t comment or push, not before they’d both get something decent to eat.

An entire heap of food later, they found themselves sitting at the kitchen table, both still nursing mugfuls of coffee. Even though Chris had noticed that Leon’s wasn’t strictly coffee, this time either. There was a strange kind of tension in the air between them, neither of them really willing to break it. Until Leon finally sighed, and seemed to steel himself for the conversation. “I’m sorry for yesterday,” he offered, “I shouldn’t have… I don’t know. I keep pushing you, but I don’t mean to.”

Chris shrugged a little. “You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t already want.” He arched an eyebrow, a small teasing smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. “It takes more than you kissing me to traumatize me, you know.”

That seemed to do the trick and Leon laughed, some of the obvious tension seeping off his shoulders. “Yeah I believe you. Otherwise you’d have been well beyond traumatized already months ago.” Leon winked at him once, but then turned more serious, seeming to weigh every word he said carefully. “I mean it, though. I shouldn’t have made assumptions. I shouldn’t have snapped at you either. It’s not like– You didn’t kill her. It’s not on you.”

“It’s all fine,” Chris said, taking a long sip of his coffee. He hadn’t held any of that against Leon, knowing what he was going through, but he couldn’t deny that it did feel good to get an apology, and an explanation. It all made him feel acknowledged, and he liked that.

Leon huffed, like he didn’t believe what Chris was saying, but he didn’t comment on it. Instead he kept his gaze directed straight at the table, avoiding eye contact the best he could as he went on. “I’ve lost so many people. _We_ ’ve lost so many people. And I don’t know,” he paused to take a deep breath, searching for words, finding none. Finally he whispered “I somehow thought that she’d live forever.”

It made surprisingly much sense to Chris, too, and he didn’t argue. Instead he nodded slowly, trying to school his expression into one of empathy. As the silence stretched on between them, he felt compelled to break it before it got too much. “You still love her?” The question was what he probably feared the most. He knew there was some kind of history there, but ever since they’d known each other Ada had been a forbidden topic of conversation. Chris had sort of always waited for Leon to be ready to bring her up, but he never had.

The surprise on Leon’s face seemed genuine. His eyebrows shot up, his mouth slack, and for a second he simply stared at Chris dumbfounded. Then he shook his head. “No. And I haven’t… not for _years_.” He spoke softly, but now instead of avoiding eye contact he was practically asking for it, meeting Chris’ gaze straight with his own, unwavering. “But there’s… I cared. And it shouldn’t have ended like this.”

Relief washed over Chris at the words, but he did feel a little guilty about it. Yet some part of him had always wondered, had always _feared_ , and yet he had never actually asked about it straight. It was like a weight off his shoulders to know the truth. “I’m sorry it did.” And he was. He wasn’t sorry that Ada was dead, exactly. He’d never held any warm feelings towards her. But he had held a certain reluctant respect towards her, and she had still been a human being. She hadn’t deserved this.

Leon tried to smile, but it turned out more a grimace. “Yeah, me too.”

Unable to hold back any longer, Chris got up from his seat and switched sides, so that he wasn’t sitting across the table from Leon but next to him. He reached out and wrapped an arm around Leon’s shoulders, pulling him against his chest, and his heart jumped a little at the way Leon leaned closer. It felt only right to press his lips against Leon’s temple. “What do you need from me?”

Slowly the tension bled from Leon. He even rested his head on Chris’ shoulder. “Just. Stay?”

 

*

The hot water beating down his back always did wonders to clear Chris’ mind, and he stood in the shower for much longer than he would’ve needed to. He knew that at some point they’d have to go back to the usual routines, get back to work and find some semblance of normalcy into their lives. But Leon’s wrist was still in a cast, his ribs still not healed properly, and he wasn’t fit to work even if he’d wanted to.

And as selfish as it might’ve been, Chris wanted to, _needed_ to be there for him. He had always put his job first, he’d always wanted to do as much good in this world as he possibly could. So he figured he had earned the right to do something selfish for once. So he pushed the thoughts about work into the back of his mind, got out of the shower and into a set of clean clothes.

When he stepped into the kitchen, rubbing his still wet hair with the towel, Leon was standing at the sink. He was holding a bottle of vodka upside down over the drain, eyes fixated on the liquid pouring out through the bottleneck. He was so focused that first he didn’t even notice Chris standing in the doorway, only spotting him as he went to grab the next of the liquor bottles. There was quite an extensive collection of them on the counter, ranging from full ones to ones with only an inch of liquid left in them.

To say Chris was surprised would’ve been an understatement. Ever since Leon had gotten home from the hospital there hadn’t been a single day when he hadn’t leaned on alcohol to take the edge off. Systematically he had shut down every single attempt Chris had made to talk about it, too. Yet apparently he had reached the same conclusion himself, after he’d been given enough time.

Still, Chris nodded towards the bottles. “You sure?” A part of him was hopeful, more than that. But this needed to be something Leon wanted to do for himself, or else it would never stick.

There was a short moment of silence, but then Leon nodded firmly. “Yeah.” He turned back towards the drain, shaking the bottle in his hand to get the last drops out, too. Systematically he worked through all of the bottles, grabbing the next one already. “It’s about time, too. I have to get my head clear.”

Chris hummed in agreement. He didn’t comment on it otherwise, though, just waited until Leon was done with his operation. Only then he approached, cornering Leon against the countertop, boxing him in with his arms. Leon arched an eyebrow in question. “Is this my reward? For doing the right thing?” He brought his healthy hand up, bunching Chris’ shirt in his fingers, and didn’t wait for an answer before yanking him down for a kiss.

It started out chaste, only a press of lips on lips, and for a while they were both content with that. Then Chris let go of the counter, instead brushing his fingers up Leon’s spine, until he could rest one palm against his back, between his shoulder blades. That made something shift in the air between them, and with a low mewl deep in his throat Leon moved to deepen the kiss.

Chris’ left hand found its way to Leon’s neck, warm against his skin, and it prompted a full-bodied shudder from Leon. Then the pleased little sounds Leon was making were cut off by a pained yelp, surprising enough to break the current kiss. Grimacing apologetically Leon held up the hand with the cast. “I forgot.”

Nothing seemed to be really wrong, and thus Chris just hummed a little in acknowledgement. He didn’t pull back his hands, one still in the crook of Leon’s neck, thumb idly stroking soft skin, and the other at his back to hold him close. “You hungry? Wanna get something to eat?”

“No, not really,” Leon shrugged a little, finally letting go of Chris’ shirt from where he’d been clinging on to the fabric knuckles white. Idly he smoothed the shirt down, placed his palm on top of Chris’ chest right where his heart was beating underneath. “But you know what? You _could_ take me to bed.” He looked up through his lashes. “If you wanted to.”

There was really only one possible answer to that.

 

*

The room was dark, but neither of them wanted to move enough to switch on a light, as they were quite comfortable right there, pressed against one another, limbs entangled. Idly Leon was drawing patterns onto Chris’ chest with his fingertips. He couldn’t stop touching, needed to have some kind of contact at all times, to ground himself and remind himself this was all real. “Hey, Chris?” he murmured after a while.

Chris was already half asleep, and it took him a couple of beats to focus his mind enough to even register he was being talked to. “Hm?”

“Thank you.”

That managed to shake the sleepiness from Chris’ mind enough, and he turned to squint at Leon. It was too dark to really properly see him, but he could make out faint outlines and shapes, at least. “For what?” he asked, honestly baffled. Leon’s head was pillowed on his shoulder, and he brushed his fingers through Leon’s hair, marvelling in the soft little sound it gained him.

“Just. Everything. Literally _everything_.” Leon answered, honest and open. He paused for a second, his heart suddenly thundering in his chest. He wasn’t certain if he could get the words out, but he drew strength from the darkness around them, from the fact that he didn’t need to actually look at Chris as he spoke. “I love you.”

It came out in a breathless whisper, the very first time he’d ever said the words out loud to Chris. To _anyone_. It was like a moment of epiphany, like the earth suddenly stopped turning for a second and time froze in its place, just because of the force of his feelings. It was scary as hell, made a part of him want to run and hide.

He’d already almost talked himself into it, inwardly built up enough panic to withdraw, but then suddenly Chris was holding him closer, a neverending source of warmth and strength right next to him, anchoring him in place. And suddenly everything seemed a lot less scary.

“I love you, too,” Chris replied, so easily it almost made Leon envious. Almost, only, as there was no room inside of him for any other feelings right now, the affection swelling in his chest until nothing else remained for the moment.

Leon tilted his head enough to press his lips against Chris’ shoulder. “Stay the night?”

Chris stays forever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

**\- four years later**

 

A carefully placed bullet stopped the infected in its tracks, leaving Leon alone, surrounded by nothing but death. So, the usual day at the office, for him. Thankfully this hadn’t even been a big disaster, they’d only sent the minimum team to do some damage control.

“Hey, Redfield,” Leon grinned as he reached out to his partner through the earpiece he was wearing, “you think you’ll be done down there anytime soon, or do I have to call and cancel our reservation for tonight?”

“ _Don’t you fucking dare_.” The reply came immediately, accompanied by a crackle and several gunshots. “ _I booked that table months ago, I’m not going to let a few rabid BOWs get in the way._ ”

Leon laughed. He knew Chris could handle himself, but it was still great to hear his voice, to have that little bit of confirmation that he was alright. “I don’t know why you’re so insistent on going, it’s not like we’ve _ever_ done big anniversary dinners. We could just order pizza. I owe you a blow–”

All of a sudden, the earpiece screeched louder, cutting off the communication mid-word. “What the hell,” Leon muttered to himself, shaking his head as if to clear his head of the loud noise. It faded into silence soon enough, and the pause hung heavy with silence before a familiar voice spoke.

“ _Hello, Leon_.”

That was impossible. Leon felt like the earth dropped off underneath him, his head spinning with disbelief. He struggled to even respond, but finally managed to choke out “But you’re _dead_.”

Ada laughed. “ _Oh, the reports of my death are greatly exaggerated. Look up._ ”

Leon did, and it didn’t take him long to spot her. She was so far away, up the mountainside, that he could barely recognize her, but he already knew. “But I–” He drew in a breath, and closed his eyes, resigned. “It was just a _job_ for you? You got _paid_ for that?” He had thought nothing could surprise him anymore but the betrayal still hurt.

“ _Oh, honey. Don’t sound so scandalized_.” She laughed again. “ _Now, I need your help. I believe we have a common enemy here. You’ve never been good at holding grudges against me._ ”

“Ada,” Leon sighed, before looking up again, straight at her. In the end, it was almost anticlimactic how he just _knew_ that he was done, knew that he wasn’t ready to go through this anymore. It was about time, too. “Go to hell.”

He heard her start to protest, and quickly ripped the earpiece out so he wouldn’t have to listen to any of that. Besides, there were loud footsteps approaching him, and when he turned around Chris was right there, jogging up to him.

“You okay?” Chris asked already before he reached Leon, concern written all over his face. “The connection broke, I thought–” He didn’t even finish the thought, instead grabbed Leon’s arm and yanked him in for a tight hug. “What happened?”

Leon took one glance towards the mountainside, no trace of Ada left there. He’d tell Chris all about this later, when they’d both gotten the hell out of here. Now wasn’t the time. “I’m okay.” He pulled away from the embrace, but remained close, and couldn’t help but smile at the way Chris kept a hand on his shoulder even then. “Let’s just go home.”

For a second Chris looked at Leon, searching his expression, but then nodded. “Okay.” Reluctant to let go just yet, he ran his hand down Leon’s arm to his elbow, giving a small squeeze. The world around them seemed to stand still for a second, like everything aligned together _just right_.

Finally, Leon broke the silence, smiling. “C’mon. We have that reservation to catch.”


End file.
